Tio's pain
by Sandal that Stinks
Summary: Situated 2 years after the death of Valmar, Tio still struggles to accept Mareg's death.Grandia II, obviously.


Note: this 'fanfic' is actually an intro for a duel that I wrote. I'm not sure whether I will actually continue the story that is forming in my head, but if I do, I'll most probably have to change the title as. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Also, I know that Tio actually has yellow eyes, and that her antennae are impossible to hide, but I had forgotten these at the time. So bear with it.

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"We've arrived."

Two years. It's been two years since the group of friends killed Valmar, the god of darkness, symbol of all evil.

The boat came to a halt, scraping along the cemented riverside. The pale girl lifted her head, jingling the curled strands of her fringe.

Tio doubted evil could be destroyed as simply as that.

She nodded and stood up, carefully, as was her way, she hopped off the small boat, smiling a thanks at the ferrier. She hurried along the rather small pier; eager to return to the cathedral that she called her home. She herself, with her friends, had revealed how corrupt the church of Granas had been. Yet it was the only place that she really liked.

Several villagers greeted her. Everyone knew her though she had come to the town only a year ago. She was slim, rather fragile in her looks. Her skin was smooth, white, leaving a strong but pleasant contrast to her big, dark-blue eyes. Her hair had a similar indigo tone and was usually done in such a complex fashion that the two thin antennae on her head were often mistaken for single, unruly strands. All in all, she resembled a quaint, charming elf, especially with the pair of small, semi-transparent, greenish wings that stuck out of her back.

Two years ago, she would have had to walk all the way up St.Heim mountain. The lack of gods had boosted technology. In a year's time, a river flowing up the mountain had been constructed, enabling travel between the three largest cities of the continent in mere hours, compared to the long days of walking that had been necessary. Aye, much had changed in these two years.

St.Heim had recovered well, too. Being a well-placed city, the citizens overcame their dependance on Granas and immediately set up guilds. Travelling merchants often chose St.Heim as their base; souvenir shops crowded the main street, profiting from the numerous tourists who visited the cathedral. St.Heim had, on the whole, transformed into a prosperous, yet simplistic city with only one main road, some village-like inhabitants and the Granas Cathedral.

Tio rushed up the stairs that led to her home. She had dark rings under her eyes, a result of the nightmares that haunted her at night. One could assume that automata didn't need sleep, didn't attract dreams, but for two years, Tio felt plagiarized by the two.

Despite being an automaton, Tio had chosen the cathedral as her home for only one reason: her love. It was the last place on Earth she had seen him, other than in her dreams, and it was the first place on Earth she had felt the long-lasting ache in her heart. Tears rose in her eyes as she passed through the cathedral's main gate. It wasn't the first time she had run home, on the verge of collapse, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. And each time, these occasions had ended in a brutal awakening that was characteristic of nightmares. Valmar's nightmares...

Tio headed straight through the bright corridor, hardly noticing the light that reflected off the white walls. The holy teint of this place had not faded one bit. She shoved open the door, causing a fierce sound that reverberated through the empty nave. Hurrying past the pews and the altar, she continued right up to the end of the hall. There she stopped, panting heavily, not only because of her sprint home, but as a result of her overwhelming emotions. She stumbled forward, nearly toppling over her own feet and sat down on the stool, staring at the keys that called for her. She could already hear the tones of the great instrument resonating in perfect harmony, a single tone sounding crystal-clear, as rich as the entire masterpiece. Then she played.

And how she played! The organ piped in all its strength as her fingers flew over the keys. Her feet moved along the pedals in breath-taking rapidity, not one tone out of place. A powerful bass clouded the melody, taking it, amplifying it, answering the small flute. The fuga began, a thick tenor continuing the simple tune while the highest and lowest voices lay into soft counterthemes. While the tenor's tune concluded, it was picked up by the shrill soprano once again, the two middle voices improvising harmoniously. The bass, on the other hand, ran a great chromatic crescendo, signalling the end of the short piece, slowly tearing the whole structure apart. Silence reigned for a short second, then Tio ended the fuga in a distressing dissonance that tore through the reverberations in a furious fortissimo.

Silence, blissful silence.

Then, quietly, a melancholy tune filled the room. Carefully, at first, as if gradually gaining the courage to speak up, a wonderfully sad piece lulled from the pipes. Tio played, not for others, but for her own feelings: after her berserk rage, a desperate anguish took hold of her. As such, the song extended, consoling the inconsolable, hoping to vanquish the lovestruck grief that had troubled the girl's soul for two years. Slowly, as quietly as it had begun, the melody died down. All it left behind was dread, as it always did.


End file.
